


The Heart of the Sea

by willowthorn



Category: Lupin III
Genre: Heist, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Multi, tags to be updated as fic progresses
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-03
Updated: 2020-07-26
Packaged: 2021-03-05 02:33:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,806
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25057012
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/willowthorn/pseuds/willowthorn
Summary: Lupin plans a three-city heist with the ultimate goal of finding a sunken city off of Greece. There's only so much that can go wrong in the week-long journey from London, England to the Aegean sea.
Relationships: Ishikawa Goemon XIII/Jigen Daisuke/Arsène Lupin III/Mine Fujiko
Comments: 1
Kudos: 17





	1. Chapter 1

Mid-morning light filters through the shuttered curtains of the flat as Lupin trips his way over to the bedroom, empty wine bottles rolling into each other. Jigen stands in the kitchen, apron in place as the smell of smoke blends with the smell of bacon frying under his watchful eye. Lupin slides through the crack in the door, not bothering to announce himself before nuzzling into the lump on the bed, kissing the mess of hair poking out of the blankets. Fujiko slowly unfurls herself, blinking misty eyes at the invader. Lupin takes a moment to smile down at her, kissing her gently until she seems more lively. He takes a brief moment to watch her stretch after she’s well and truly awake before moving off in search of Goemon. 

The small apartment doesn’t leave much room to hide, but a cross-faded samurai could wind up in the strangest places in the course of a night, as he had found on more than one occasion. He checks the closets first, then under the couch. He finds dust, more of Jigen’s hat collection, a few golf clubs, and stray cleaning supplies. 

He ultimately finds Goemon on the fire escape, back leaned against the warming red brick, eyes closed to listen to the world around him, the flight of birds and the sound of the streets equal. 

“Hey, buddy. How’s the hangover?” Lupin leans himself out the window beside Goemon’s head, reaching for his cigarettes. It was a bad habit before breakfast, but the air was still cool and fresh, the warm sun creating a beautiful balance that begged for him to bask. Goemon hums, cracking an eye before standing, moving smoothly past Lupin to go sit at the table.

“Awh man, no good morning kiss? Must be cranky today. Oh well.” He shrugs, putting back his cigarettes to follow Goemon to the table, Fujiko joining them a minute later as Lupin reaches for a slice of toast, Jigen pouring coffee for the table before sitting down himself.

Breakfast, for the most part, is silent until he’s halfway through his cup. He sighs, relaxing into his seat as he reviews his lovers before him, picks up on the little queues that tell him they’re recovered enough from the night to begin thinking about the rest of their afternoon.

“How do we feel about Greece this time of year? I know, I know - it’s almost summer, it’ll be hot.” He starts, Jigen leaning the slightest bit towards him, Fujiko sitting up slightly straighter. Goemon, stoic as always, doesn’t move. “But listen! I found this great fishing spot right off the coast. We could go, spend a week.. Fujicakes I know you’ve been wanting to work on your tan, and it’s been waaay too long since we were last down there - I know you miss those beaches, Jigen.”

“So what’s the job?” Jigen cuts him off with a gesture of his coffee cup.

“Oh, just a little trinket. Nothing huge, just a gem at the heart of the lost city of Atlantis.” Lupin smiles with delight at the table rocks, Goemon’s steady grip on it the only thing preventing certain disaster as Jigen and Fujiko yell at him.

“Now, now. I’ll take your questions one at a time, one at a time.” Lupin raises his hands, Jigen settling back down as Fujiko decides that the single surviving bottle of champagne in the kitchen is destined to be used for mimosas. 

“Alright, I’ll bite. How are we gonna find Atlantis?”

“That’s an easy one! We’re going to steal a map.” Lupin begins to push aside a few plates, stacking his where possible so he can pull up his rough mock-up of their plan, notes scribbled in the margins alongside maps. “It’s in three pieces - one stone tablet, one terracotta figure of a... Well, they don’t know what animal it is, but I think it looks like a horse, and one bronze hydria. Of course, I already marked all three.” 

“And I don’t suppose they’re all in one convenient place?” Goemon asks, moving to take away the dirty dishes. They hear the pop of champagne from the kitchen, followed by Fujiko rapidly shaking the orange juice. They hear the clatter of dishes into the sink, Goemon abandoning cleaning up in favor of helping Fujiko grab the glasses from the high shelf, which she could easily reach.

“Now what’s the fun in that, my dear Goemon? We’re very lucky - they’re in three beautiful, unique places all their own. The last time the hydria was spotted was in France, by some tourists taking an off-road trip through the catacombs. The figure is in the English Museum of Natural History, as part of it’s rotating archival collections, and the tablet was auctioned off about two months ago to a lovely little widower in the Alps.” Lupin raises his voice slightly, making sure it carries to the two in the kitchen. To Jigen he shows the layouts of their probable locations, fake names written in curling letters, rough sketches of personas to be used for infiltration. 

Fujiko and Goemon return, the glasses handed out. Jigen clinks his slightly against Goemon’s in the trade over, Goemon standing beside him as they review the maps together. Lupin explains heists like how some people dance, all elegant precision, confidence, and impeccable timing running through entry routes, covers, exit strategies, and blind spots. 

“Of course, this is just a rough sketch. I’ll have more detailed intel by the end of the week, then we can decide on which one will be the first.” Lupin folds up his papers, taking the scattered mess into his breast pocket. “So! Who wants work details with me?” 

None of them do, so naturally, Jigen gets stuck with the job of babysitting the man when inspiration inevitably strikes after two days sticking his fingers into encrypted databases and Lupin finds his focus. He starts skipping meals, and Jigen knows better than to force it at this point. He leaves leftovers in the fridge, leaves small snacks by the desk. Jigen watches his notes spread from one simple corkboard to cover the wall, little strings, and flashes of red marker flying between the lines. It grows and grows, and suddenly he wakes up one morning to see Lupin in his underwear proudly staring down at a small trash fire. 

“I got it!” He crows, the fire alarm blaring in Jigen’s ear as water begins to rush over them. 

“Great!” Jigen yells, dousing the flame with his coffee. 

They leave the next day. Fujiko and Goemon pile into the car with them. It’s quiet for some time, just the hum of the radio and the sound of Fujiko’s magazine as she flips between pages. Goemon has his eyes closed, Lupin rattling off whatever comes to mind before eventually borrowing one of Jigen’s mystery books tucked in the glove box. In time he falls asleep, paper warped and bent against the slow rise and fall of his chest. Jigen turns down the radio slightly, takes an extra bit of care to avoid some of the deeper potholes. 

They cross the Spanish border into southern France. Jigen pulls the car to a rumbling stop beside a lavender field, the scent filling his nose as he relieves himself in the ditch. Goemon is already awake, leaning against the front door of the fiat, waiting to take over driving. Lupin snores peacefully, the late afternoon light painting a gentle glow across the samurai’s cheeks. They’ll stop for dinner in maybe an hour or two, and then it’ll be Lupin’s turn to drive. 

Lupin has them booked for a single night in a bed and breakfast built out of someone’s old estate, in what Jigen likes to think of as wine country. The blankets there smell like they were dried in the sun, a welcome change from the neglected linen of so many of their safehouses. Goemon breathes their scent, feels Jigen shift against him, the scratch of his facial hair a familiar comfort against the twisting sensation deep in his gut that tells him this will not be quite the easy job Lupin is making it out to be. 

They’re in England the next afternoon. They have 24 hours before Lupin publicly announces his first mark.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first in a string of heists

The day is spent in preparation. Jigen’s gun echoes through the deserted shooting hall, swinging targets full of holes as red lines read out the speed of his draw. Goemon spends the day in isolation, running through katas between hours of deep meditation. Fujiko spends the morning cataloging her tools, the evening at a cafe near the museum, listening to where people kept their focus as they wandered through exhibits, what stuck in their mind even when they left the premises. Lupin goes over it all with her, folding details into his plan. There’s a gala the next evening welcoming a wildlife photography series into the special exhibits wing. They’ll use it as part of their cover.

Lupin takes charge of their disguises. He plans around little flashes, little bits of flare that distract and hide their tools. Jigen’s gun is tucked in a tight holster, his black jacket textured to throw the eye of the line of it, the flash of purple of his shirt and the shine of his bolo tie keeping the eyes up away from his holster. Fujiko’s skirts melt into gold, all shine and flash as she glides around, her hips swinging. Her wide belt holds the majority of her tools, more hiding in the fabric held tight to the outside curve of her breast, the sheer panel in the center of her chest an ample distraction. Her elbow-length gloves do well to leave no trace of her behind. Goemon’s suit is all clean lines and subtle flare, deep blue with purple stitching, hair tied over his shoulder and sword disguised as a cane. Lupin guides him to act like his legs are stiff, to sell the necessity of the accessory. He lends him a heavy silver watch, tells him to wind it until it clicks if he needs a distraction. Lupin himself is the brightest spot amongst them - rich red silk shirt tucked into high waisted black pants, gold around the pockets, and short jacket studded with gems. He wears no tie, his shirt open in a wide v, his fingers dripping with rings. They look like new money, all excited to show off their new-found wealth through every little accessory. 

Lupin arrives first, flirting himself an easy path to the bar. He hangs off of ladies, tells them stories of how he got the gems set in his rings, of mysterious adventures and good fortune that paints him as a rogue. He leaves an impression, and drinks in curious looks. There’s a certain excitement in the air, murmured wondering if they’ll be able to see a famous thief at work tonight. Some wonder if it could be him, but that is almost immediately dismissed - he’s too gaudy, too bold, too incongruous with the rest of the crowd to be anything but a flashy young troublemaker with a few too many dollars. He sees security tight around the edges of the party, sees signs of Zenigata’s handiwork in the way they’re placed, but he does not recognize a single face among them - they’re the museum’s own guards, primarily. Good. 

Jigen and Goemon arrive together, Jigen playing the gentleman as he helps him out of their low car. Their arms hook together as they play the dignified couple, walking slowly. They draw their own special kind of attention, Jigen mentally noting future marks as other couples begin to investigate them. Goemon never seems like a conversationalist, but Jigen is always amazed at how easily he steers those hungry for it into talking about history, about poetry, about the beautiful landscapes he knows from inside out. Jigen takes the liberty of dropping a few names in there, referencing photographers, painters. The lack of Jigen’s hat makes it easy for everyone to see the familiar adoration and pride in his gaze as he listens to Goemon talk. He feels eyes on him, wives comparing how their husbands looked at them to how he looked at the samurai. They’re told how wonderful it is to see another openly gay couple in the scene. They’re told that they would be welcome to come over for tea, to come see the works in person. They sell being in love well, and security looks right past them. 

Fujiko arrives last, tucking her sunglasses into her purse. The gloss on her lips shimmers in the low light, men and a few women turning towards her as she shakes out her hair, letting it fall into its proper place. Her arrival is the cue they’ve been waiting for. Lupin whistles low, hungry eyes eating the curve of her hips, the long pale line of her legs, her golden heels as she begins to play. A flute of champagne is pressed into her hands then immediately abandoned as she moves from man to man, the couples in the room moving closer to each other. Goemon and Jigen can see jealous hands tightening, and they excuse themselves to find a private area. They speak in low tones, confirming security details before they fade away fully to let Fujiko and Lupin take center stage. 

It’s a familiar dance. They circle each other, each step matched. Conversations lag as they share a glance, a slow tension rising. They drink together, whispered words detailing movements, flaws in their witnesses and their guards. A small light in Lupin’s watch flickers for the barest second, a confirmation that Jigen has set the security cameras to loop. A second later, there’s a small vibration from Fujiko’s belt, Goemon at the ready. His hand skirts across her knee, and she touches his knuckles. They flirt into each other's necks, and fall together into the deserted stairway down to the basement, their marked guards looking away in embarrassment, in envy. Rookies. 

They’ll have ten minutes to pull this off. 

It’s an easy task for Lupin to pick the lock, Fujiko’s skirt obscuring his hands, making it look like he was fumbling with her belt as he presses her back against the doorway. The guard beside them had given them space - not fully leaving them post, but giving them enough room that when he turned his head in embarrassment as Fujiko’s fake moaning obscured the final click of the lock they could slip in easily. Lupin mans the door, moves the weight of a desk against it as Fujiko scales the filing cabinets, tapping on the ceiling to confirm the exact location of the service duct. She moves quickly, opening it, pulling a slim knife from her belt so she can cut into the ventilation shaft hidden within. She slips in, and Lupin hears the knock of a body against the door, a cry for backup. Good. That’ll redirect some security. 

By the time he joins Fujiko on the other side of the ducts, she already has her back pressed against the door, gun in hand. Her knife waits for him atop the drawer holding their prize. His fingers skirt over the edges, notes an almost imperceptible difference in the set of it. Fujiko’s knife slips through the cracks easily, the edge finding resistance in the center. In the distance clock towers begin to strike the hour, deep resounding matching his heart as the handle begins to jostle at Fujiko’s side. 

“Just a minute, we’re busy!” Lupin calls, tongue between his lips as he feels the resistance start to give. A pop of pressure comes with a thumping against the door, Fujiko bracing herself with a wince. 

The drawer slides open smoothly, blue paint dripping from his knife, staining the foam setting surrounding three near-identical terracotta figures. It could’ve ended up on his face, his hands. It could’ve marked him, could have distracted him long enough for Zenigata to make it through the door. He grins - pops was getting more inventive by the day. 

The door slams open as his hand hovers, Fujiko giving an indigent yell as she wheels back. Sharp heels land square in the face of Zenigata, throwing him back into the hall as she turns her gun to shoot their escape route open. Glass falls to the street below, the sole window in the room open to the night air.

Alarms blare, the roar of an engine below welcoming as they jump, a small terracotta figure hugged to Lupin’s chest as he lands. Tires spin on wet pavement, Goemon flooring it as they shoot off into the night, leaving Zenigata to hang from the broken window frame, handcuffs swinging in an empty threat. Gunfire skirts their escape, their laughter echoing through the narrow London streets.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to Griffin for giving this a beta read, and to Kenny and Twigs for helping me with some details.

**Author's Note:**

> I've never planned a heist before, so I'm very interested to see how this ends up.


End file.
